


you know me, it's all or none

by somehowunbroken



Series: we're a fight waiting to happen [5]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Accidental Coming Out, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 11:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3527006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So Derek has a boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you know me, it's all or none

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariadne83](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadne83/gifts).



> for ariadne83, who is the very best.
> 
> title from missy higgins' "where i stood." why do i keep naming these things with lyrics from breakup songs?

So Derek has a boyfriend.

It's not like everything changes, even though it's sort of, at least a little, kind of monumental. Kissing guys, getting to second base, hell, third base - it's way different from this, from actually dating a guy. Still, though, Derek knows he's the one with more of a clue about what's going on here. He's definitely got it together more than Dex does, which is maybe the only thing Derek's completely sure about at this point. That's not hard, though, considering the fact that Dex is sitting beside Derek on his bed and freaking right the fuck out.

"I don’t," Dex says angrily, wiping at his face like it’s betraying him. Derek leans into him a little, because Dex looks like he could maybe use the support, but Derek's not sure he'd actually take it willingly at this point. Dex doesn't move away, though. "I can’t, I just - this can’t be. A thing. Not to - to anyone back home."

Derek nods slowly. He’d known that, honestly, had puzzled it out from the context clues, read between the lines of Dex’s thoughts and actions and words. He has to pick his words carefully, so he's quiet for a minute before replying. “This is what you want it to be, Dex. Your call, your ball, your court. I'm not gonna push you into anything.” Even if Dex wants to walk away, even if that's his play, because Derek - he gets it, he does. This is new and pretty amazing, in Derek's opinion, but he already knows his family won't be upset.

"I don’t want it to have to be my call," Dex mutters, the heels of his palms pressed into his face. "For once, damn it, I want to just…"

Derek doesn’t say anything as Dex trails off. If wishes were fishes, he knows, and he can’t change Dex’s family, or the way Dex feels about telling them. It's not like he wants himself to matter more to Dex than his family does; it's way too soon to be thinking anything like that.

"God," Dex says, shivery and wrecked, and Derek - honestly, it's as much about comforting himself at this point as it is about Dex when he puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls until Dex is leaking steady tears into the collar of his shirt. There's no dramatic sobbing, nothing but Dex's quiet, shuddering breaths and the whisper of Derek rubbing his thumb against Dex's shoulder.

"I’ve got you," Derek says after a few minutes, and Dex shakes all over. "You do what you gotta do, man. I’ve got your back."

Dex croaks out a laugh into Derek's neck. "You know, this would be a lot easier if we still hated each other underneath the rest of it."

Derek shrugs, jostling Dex a little. "Yeah. Too bad."

"Too bad," Dex echoes, but he leans in instead of getting up and leaving, so Derek figures he's still got a boyfriend. For now, at least.

-0-

The thing of it is, it's no less fun to needle each other now that they're actually mostly getting along.

"The hell was that?" Derek asks at practice when one of Dex's passes skips over his stick. "Tape's touching the ice, Dex, so maybe aim for it next time."

"If your stick was where it was supposed to be - which, since you apparently forgot, is three feet back - then it would've been perfect," Dex shouts back. He's already skating back to center ice and lining up to try again. "Maybe try, like, skating better, and we won't have this problem."

Derek snorts and resets. They're both at least a little bit right, which is less surprising than it maybe could've been. Derek should've been a little closer to the boards, but Dex should've been able to account for Derek's change in position. Whatever, it's something to work on.

"Pay attention," Derek singsongs as Coach Murray whistles for them to start. He pushes off and races his way into position, and when he hears Dex yell, "Hey, asshole, _you_ pay attention," he turns and gets the pass right on his tape and flicks it in above Chowder's left glove.

"Sweet," Derek decides, grinning as Chowder splutters and stares first at Derek, then at Dex, then back to Derek. "Look at that, we're not complete shit at this."

"Yeah, well, now we see how good you are at passing to me," Dex says, skating back towards center ice and setting up yet again. "My bet's on you fucking it up, by the way."

"You're on," Derek says immediately. "Loser buys tacos."

"Two tacos max," Dex stresses, and yeah, Derek wouldn't have made him buy more than two, he knows Dex is worried about finances and shit. He nods, though, and he's pretty sure Dex knows he's rolling his eyes, too. The whistle blows and they start, Derek handling the puck all the way down past the blue line before slotting it over, and it looks great right up until it hits a chip in the ice and goes skittering too far forward. Derek throws his hands up, because what the hell, technicality, but Dex leans forward and puts a rush on it and manages to bring the puck back in. He slots it low for the goal, which Chowder stops easily, but it was still a brilliant fucking save.

"Dude," Derek says, skating into Dex and slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Dude. That was so chill."

"Yeah, well, you're still buying me my tacos," Dex mutters, but he's smiling, and Derek is one hundred percent positive that the red on his face isn't just from exertion.

"Fine, I'll buy your fucking tacos," Derek says, knocking their helmets together before pushing away. "I'll even buy you an extra taco for the sheer poetry of that save, man."

Dex snorts and rolls his shoulders. "Again?"

"Uh," Derek hears, and he turns his head to see Chowder frowning at them. He's still between the pipes, but he's got his mask shoved back on top of his head, and he's biting his lip. "I thought you guys were - but you're fighting again, and I just, I just thought you wouldn't hate each other, and-"

Dex shoots Derek a somewhat panicked look, which Derek returns for a moment before skating towards Chowder. "Hey, yo, chill," he says, patting Chowder's shoulder. "We're gonna nitpick. We're still us, man. We're not, like, totally different people just because we're-"

Chowder reaches out and slaps his glove over Derek's mouth. His expression has managed to go from _heartbroken puppy_ to _scary goalie face_ in about six seconds. "Okay, right," he says. "So it's not, like, mean? You don't secretly hate each other still?"

"No," Dex says. He's skated a little closer, but he's staying out of reach of Chowder and his apparently conversation-preventing hands. "We're not - we don't hate each other, Chowder. It's just, like, that's how we communicate sometimes."

"All the time," Chowder says, glove still over Derek's mouth even though he's focused on Dex now. "You guys never-"

Derek coughs behind Chowder's glove, loud and fake enough to make it heard even around the padding, and Chowder goes red and drops his hand.

"Fine," he says, pulling his mask back on. "Sorry for being concerned, whatever. I don't get you guys. Wow."

Derek leans in and gives Chowder a one-armed hug. "Bro, nobody gets us. Don't feel bad."

"We don't even get us half the time," Dex adds, which is both true and kind of sad. "If we break up or whatever, Chowder, you'll be the first person I call, okay?"

"Not if I call him first," Derek says right away.

"Yeah, because you're so much faster than I am, right?" Dex replies. "Oh, wait, who's the one that managed to get the crazy puck save? It wasn't you."

Chowder sighs explosively, and Derek grins as Coach Murray calls for them to reset and try again.

-0-

Tacos get put off, though, because they've got back to back away games: a Thursday night game against Princeton and a Saturday morning game at UPenn. They're both too focused on hockey to even think about trying to sneak something that's not team nutritionist-approved.

They win against Princeton in overtime, which is exhausting but also kind of exhilarating, and Derek doesn't think anything of flopping halfway across Dex when they get on the bus that's taking them from Princeton to Philadelphia. He grins when Dex grunts. "Jesus, you're heavy."

"Deal," he says, waiting until Dex gives the same annoyed huff he always does. "Hey, so."

"So," Dex repeats. He yanks his hands out from beneath Derek, pinching his shoulder lightly before settling his hands on Derek's chest. "So, buttons."

"You're the worst, man," Derek says, rolling his eyes, but he still catches Dex's grin. "So, we gotta plan taco night."

Dex shrugs. "La Choza, after we get back on Sunday?"

"Works for me," Derek says. Dex looks at him for a moment like he's expecting Derek to move now that they've set a date. Derek, of course, wiggles to get more comfortable, and Dex grumbles a little but doesn't shove him off.

"Did I hear someone say tacos?" Holster says, appearing out of what might actually be thin air. "Because I love tacos. Don't I love tacos?"

"You do love tacos," Ransom agrees, and shit, that's gotta be a magic trick. Derek glances up at Dex, but no, he appears to not have a clue either. "Coincidentally, I also love tacos. Are we doing D-line taco night?"

Derek isn't sure what to say, not really. It's not like they're hiding the whole "dating this dude I kind of used to hate" thing, but they're not telling everyone they've ever met, either. He's trying to do a quick pros-vs.-cons thing in his head to just letting them come along when Dex snorts. "No. We're doing date night, and we're not going double with you two."

Derek has to grin up at him for that, wide and happy, and probably wider still when Dex's cheeks go red but he doesn't hesitate to smile back down at Derek.

"What the hell did we miss," Ransom hisses at Holster.

Dex digs his fingers in against Derek's shirt, just enough to get a handhold, and then leans over and brushes a kiss against Derek's temple. It's quick, light, barely even a thing, but it's - it's a moment, a big one, and Derek doesn't care if they win or lose against UPenn, because shit, man, what could be better than this, right here, right now?

"We missed a lot, apparently," Holster says calmly after a few silent seconds. "You know what, Rans, we should probably-"

"Yeah," Ransom agrees, and then they're gone like they were never there to begin with.

Derek keeps smiling up at Dex. Dex stares out the window, but he's smiling too, and he keeps his fingers twisted in Derek's shirt until they get to their hotel.

-0-

They crush UPenn, 4-1 with the Quakers' only goal coming in the last three minutes of the game. It's a great feeling, winning two on the road and heading back to play a team they all know they can beat in their sleep on home ice, and Derek's got tacos to look forward to, too.

"Great weekend," he says when Dex walks out of his dorm. It's chilly but not freezing, so they're both a little bundled; Derek's never going to say it out loud, but he likes the way Dex's jacket stretches across his shoulders, how the really basic, drab brown of it somehow seems a little brighter with Dex's hair as a complement. It's possibly the sappiest thing he's ever thought about anyone ever.

"Great road trip," Dex agrees. "And hey, tacos, so tonight can't suck."

"And my awesome company," Derek adds, mostly just to see Dex roll his eyes. Derek bumps their shoulders together as they set off towards La Choza.

They spend a few minutes just walking quietly. They've spent the past few days living even more in each other's space than they normally do, which is saying something; it's not that Derek's run out of shit to talk about, but he doesn't feel any particular need to fill up the silence, either.

Or, never mind, not silent, because Dex's phone starts to ring.

"Shit," he grumbles as he pulls it out of his pocket. "Hey, it’s my mom. I haven't talked to her since the UPenn game, let me just-"

"Go for it," Derek says, sticking his hands in his pockets. It’s not like they’ve got reservations. Dex talking to his mom isn’t putting a huge crimp in their plans.

Dex flashes him a little smile and clicks to answer. "Hey, Ma. How are-"

Derek watches as Dex cuts himself off and starts listening, giving little hums of acknowledgment every minute or so. He’s got that soft expression on his face as his mom goes on, like he’s fond and amused and happy enough doing what he’s doing. They keep walking downtown, and Derek listens to the tones of the conversation more than the words. He's not eavesdropping, just listening to the ups and downs of Mrs. Poindexter's voice, the cadence of the conversation. 

"Yeah," Dex says maybe five full minutes later. "Yeah, Ma, of course I’m glad you called. It’s nice to get the update." Derek hears her ask something, end of a phrase tilted up in a question, and Dex shakes his head. "Nah, I’m just heading out for a bite with my boyfriend."

Derek’s always wondered what it’d feel like, to be in one of those _time slows down_ moments. He’s got his answer: it’s syrup-sticky around the edges, a swooping, freefall feeling in the pit of his stomach as Dex freezes, hand clenching around his phone as he realises what he’d said.

There’s a moment of dead silence. Derek reaches out and takes Dex’s free hand, and Dex clutches it like a lifeline. Derek hears Mrs. Poindexter start talking again, but he’s not close enough to know what she’s saying, even if he does want to eavesdrop now, if only so he can figure out how bad the shitstorm is going to be.

"What?" Dex asks after a moment, voice barely above a whisper. "Ma, I - what-"

Derek rubs his thumb against the skin on the back of Dex’s hand and waits.

"Oh," Dex says weakly after a moment. "I - thanks, Ma." She says something else, and Dex closes his eyes and lets his shoulders slump. "Yeah. Love you too. Bye." He hangs up and puts his phone in his pocket, still hanging onto Derek’s hand like he’ll lose his way without it.

"She’s not mad," Dex says in a tone of voice that Derek can’t place, kind of wondering and kind of shocky, maybe. "She’s - she says-"

Dex turns suddenly, jerking on Derek’s hand and making him stumble. Dex catches him, steadies him with hands on his hips, and kisses him in front of the used bookstore on Elm Street, holding on and letting go all at once. Derek kisses him back with everything he’s got, taking and giving in equal measure, and when Dex finally pulls back he’s grinning, a little wild-eyed and a lot relieved. “She says it’s gonna be fine,” he says, and he laughs a little, and Derek smiles down at him and kisses him again.

"She also says she wants to meet you," Dex adds when they finally pull apart, and then he laughs at whatever look is on Derek's face.

God, he's such an asshole. Derek is stupidly, incredibly fond of him, and when Dex starts walking again, Derek follows.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah, you've probably seen bits of this before, if you've read the ficlets i've written. two of the scenes are adapted versions of those, because honestly i wrote them with this series in mind, and if it ain't broke, don't fix it.
> 
> "if wishes were fishes" is adapted from a proverb, which alternately goes "if wishes were fishes then beggars would feast" or "if wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets," depending on which source you like better. basically it's just "wishes don't give you anything real" but with that added little "derek nurse: overly poetic hipster nerdbaby" flair.
> 
> "la choza" means "the hut" in spanish, and i really hope that there's a mexican place near a college campus somewhere with that name.
> 
> [follow me on tumblr](http://somehowunbroken.tumblr.com) for lots of crying about hockey, both real and fictional.


End file.
